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The words of my mother fade,
her voice reverberates,
in a vacuum
of stars and gently turning planets
where we are all connected
among astral light and dark matter,
between oceans of space
that stretch beyond comprehension
into parallel universes and other dimensions,
among ghosts and shadows
that we cannot see with our eyes.

Eternity moves through me,
and I wonder if this is hell.
Am I trapped in my memories
without any future?
A specter.

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MUSINGS

Upon the sides of Latmos was outspread
A mighty forest; for the moist earth fed
So plenteously all weed-hidden roots
Into o’er-hanging boughs, and precious fruits.
And it had gloomy shades, sequestered deep,
Where no man went; and if from shepherd’s keep
A lamb strayed far a-down those inmost glens,
Never again saw he the happy pens
Whither his brethren, bleating with content,
Over the hills at every nightfall went.
-Endymion, John Keats